In the Lonely Midnight

In the lone­ly mid­night on the win­try hill

Shepherds heard the an­gels sing­ing

Peace

good will.

Listen

O ye wea­ry

to the an­gels’ song

Unto to you the tid­ings of great joy be­long.

Though in Da­vid’s ci­ty an­gels sing no more

Love makes an­gel music on earth’s dark­est shore;

Though no heav­en­ly glo­ry meet your won­der­ing eyes

Love can make your dwell­ing bright as para­dise.

Though the child of Ma­ry

sent from Heav­en on high

In His man­ger cra­dle may no long­er lie

Love is king for­ev­er

though the proud world scorn;

If ye tru­ly seek Him

Christ your king is born.